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enigmatist17 · 17 days

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My Sanctuary (Part 3)

Part 1 2 4

Also, first attempt at poetry, so go easy on me <:)

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"You know, I never knew you could pull an Angel move like that."

"Oi, it's not an "Angel move"."

"Hmmmmm, never heard you this silent when you were in Sunnydale."

"You weren't a target, luv, though I remember crashin' some party, and you didn't see me at first."

"Well, duh, the lights were out!" Cordelia scoffs as she waves her nail file in the air before pointing it at the vaguely Spike-shaped lump nestled in her favorite recliner behind the former bellhop desk. "I don't have nocturnal vision, you know."

"Fair." His chuckle is nearly lost as he readjusts in his seat, but she hears it all the same. "Don't have to bloody babysit y'know."

"Please, I don't babysit." The other rolled her eyes, putting on a fresh bottom coat to her nails with a hum. "Didn't feel like fighting tonight, and you're always here, so here we are."

"Your 'ead still hurtin' pet?" He watched Cordelia tense without a blink, the girl trying to put up a front as she faced him with a smile a shade from perfection.

"Oh, you know, not any worse than usual." She shrugged, seemingly looking at her soul, and those eyes made her shiver. A small part of her wonders what he would say if she admitted the pain was worse than they feared, he doesn't seem the type to fall apart like the others would.

"Right, and I've got all my marbles." He watched the seer tense up for a few minutes, not saying anything as she applied a layer of red polish to both hands.

"I've been getting scans, and this is too mystical bullshit for them to help me, so..." Some unseen weight slides off her shoulders as Spike merely watches her, his gaze neither judging nor overly worried.

"No one knows?"

"No, mostly because if I do, we get to see Worried Angel, and that man is a spaz attack to the extreme." She shook her head, both touched and annoyed that he'd been so worried when she vanished he nearly ran off to Pylea without preparing for the journey, listening to Gunn with wide eyes before giving Angel one of the biggest chewing-out lectures she'd ever given.

He got hugs later, but that's beside the point.

"He's always a bit dramatic, yeah?" Spike chuckled. I might know some people who can 'elp, though seer stuff is rare, so I can't promise."

"I'll take anything at this—" she cuts off when the phone rings, turning back to face the desk as she answers by the second ring. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless!" She can hear Spike rustle around as she deals with the new potential client, the errant thought of having her back to one of the most dangerous vampires in history nearly making her laugh mid-sentence. Wesley probably was more up the wall about it than she was, the poor guy had confiding in her that he was nervous about going to Angel's room these days, worried Spike might be there and do something, even if he never did.

"So, Spike, I do have some black polish, maybe I could - Spike?"

"I remember this book." The vampire had left the comfort of his chair in favor of the bookshelves Wesley had added for his seemingly endless library that migrated to the Hyperion on a constant basis. Spike was looking at one Cordelia was unfamiliar with, hugging it close to his chest when she reached his side, those blue eyes looking down at the floor.

"I'm not going to take it, I promise." The vampire shyly looked over, and Cordelia smiled, a bit awed that he could look so sweet under his normal snarky exterior. "Do you like that book?"

"I suppose so, but I don't really remember." He sighed, his grip on it tightening a bit. "I sometimes forget when I was alive. I wanted to because it was easy. No rules meant I could take whatever I wanted, and no one could stop me. Sometimes I didn't want to, but I danced to her tune whenever Drusilla sang, could never deny her."

"Well, I don't think you take too much, if that's any consolation." She gently patted his back, the man flinching at her touch. "Tell you what, why don't we go and get comfortable, and you can tell me all about that book of yours, or whatever strikes your fancy. What do you say?"

"I would like that." Spike gives her a little grin, and Cordelia gives him a small hug that thankfully, wasn't brushed off like she feared.

"C'mon, Angel has the best comforter for this..."

---

"I do believe I have a concussion." Wesley groaned as Angel's car finally came to a blessed stop in a familiar garage, his head ringing. "Or I'm just old."

"Wes you're like, 25."

"Old is old." Gunn snorted as Angel was the first to exit his car slowly, the vampire still with his demonic face to control the pain from his surely broken leg and cracked ribs. "I think Angel is the only one allowed to play the age card."

"Children, less fighting and more moving out of the car." Angel leaned against the door with a grimace, watching the two humans slowly pile out with their own groans of pain. Fighting a seven-foot demon hellbent on killing some of the homeless population had taken half the night, and none of them had walked away unscathed.

"Cordy is going to need to order takeout; I am starving and there's no way in hell I'm driving home." Gunn moved to help support Angel and Wesley on the vampire's other side as they hobbled towards the door leading up to the lobby, Gunn opening it with a quiet curse. Wesley is about to say something when they hear Spike talking, and the trio shares a look before they shuffle to the end of the wall and peer around to the lobby.

Spike and Cordelia have spread out a blanket, Angel realizing, to his dismay, being one of his favorites, bottles of polish along with a few books strewn about. The vampire is leaning against the familiar round couch while Cordelia is painting his toenails, scribbling something on a notepad he'd been given while she talks about some celebrity gossip. He's clearly not absorbing a lick of what Cordelia is talking about as he writes, muttering under his breath as he crosses out words or adds new ones with a click of his tongue, just all in all invested. Angel's heart aches at memories from times long past flickering at the back of his mind, of moments when Spike would hide away with his little journal, writing when he thought no one was looking. Angelus had never cared for those eyes that would shine with his thoughts, and it hadn't been long before Spike stopped altogether, or at least had improved enough to where he'd never been caught again.

Satisfied with what he had written, Spike reached over to gently tap the top of Cordelia's head, the seer sitting up to give her full attention.

"Ready, pet?"

"Yep, you've got this big guy." Angel and the others share a glance before they slowly sit down on the ground, keeping out of sight while giving their aching bodies a rest as they continue to listen in, Spike clearing his throat before he begins to read off his work.

Her temper like fire,

Beauty, bepraise

One should wonder not at her ire.

Charming with never-ending grace.

Ho!

A force to reckon with,

An axe to contend,

A wordsmith to be praised.

The lady transcends.

Peace

It's quiet when he finishes, the vampire refusing to look up from his paper, just...waiting.

"You wrote a poem...about me?" Cordelia stared at Spike with wide eyes, one hand moving to rest over her chest. "Oh my god that is, that is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done."

"Truly?" Spike isn't sure who's more surprised at the moment, Cordelia or himself, but for the moment takes in the lack of laughter he'd been expecting. It's been a long time since he's been so vulnerable since the old days, proper vulnerable with anyone other than himself, the brunette grinning as she reached over to give him a hug, pulling back and eyeing the now slightly crumpled paper.

"Please tell me I can keep that, I love it so much."

"Of course, by all means." Cordelia let out a little squeal of joy when she snagged it, scanning over the elegant cursive with a bright smile before setting it aside carefully. Spike just looked quite pleased, about to say something else when the smell of battle and blood registered, face snapping over to a corner of the lobby. "Angel?"

"...hey."

Oh bloody hell

"Angel, did you hear my poem?" Cordelia grinned, hurriedly getting up to her feet with Spike when the trio hobbled around the corner, darting for the emergency kit while Spike helped drag the injured men to the couch.

"You write poems?" Gunn asked the blonde, who was decidedly not looking anyone in the eye as he helped Angel peel off his shredded coat with a wince.

"What did you fight? Are you too old to dodge some blows?" Wesley giggled from somewhere to Angel's left. The former Watcher splayed out on the floor as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

"One tall ass people eating demon, the usual." Wesley giggled to himself, Gunn rolling his eyes as Cordelia knelt down beside the man on the floor. "You look so very happy, Cordy; it's a good look for you."

"Mhm, better than the egg you've got on your head." She chuckled, checking him over. "Someone needs some painkillers and rest, if you're worse in the morning then we'll go to the hospital."

"Good thing you have a blanket down here; I do like that one." Wesley hummed, making no move towards said fabric as Cordelia bandaged some cuts on his face. The tranquility was broken when there was a snap followed by a muffled cry, Angel biting down on his hand as Spike readjusted his leg. The smaller man looked slightly apologetic as he temporarily bound Angel's leg the proper way.

"Damn, kinda glad I don't heal that quick." Gunn shook his head, having been tending to his own wounds on the opposite side of the couch. "You gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine, shouldn't 'ave been driving with a broken leg." Spike scoffed, his grandsire giving a nasty look as he went to fetch some blood from behind the former check-in desk. Angel has pulled his fangs out of his hand by the time he's back, the bottle held out taken and drained as fast as the older vampire could manage. "Ponce."

"Shut it." Spike sat by his side with a small grin, watching Cordelia clear their things off the blanket they'd been using before dragging it over for Wesley, who passed out the moment she dragged him on top of it. "I don't think I can carry him upstairs."

"Call it a surprise sleepover. I'll have Fred help me get more blankets for everyone." Cordelia grinned before darting upstairs, leaving the remaining conscious men to share looks before collectively shrugging.

An hour later, filled with some complaints and fighting over who got the best pillows, takeout enough for a small army, and a projector playing a movie on an awkwardly hanging sheet over the banister, the impromptu sleepover was in full effect. Gunn, Cordelia, and Fred were lounging against each other, commenting on the movie whenever Fred wasn't enraptured. They clearly made up for some lost time, and the humans slowly lost the battle against sleep as time went on. Wesley and Angel were already out for the count, Spike having to bite back a comment on how domestic they looked all snuggled up together in their little corner.

He wanted that so much

He locks up the door and pulls down curtains so he and Angel don't fry come morning once everyone has fallen asleep, working on some more poetry before he also succumbs.

---

The thump of a book woke Wesley, the Brit having to sit for a solid minute as his brain rebooted. He remembered a fight, something about poetry, and Angel holding him close, the latter evident with arms firmly tucked around his waist.

It's the strangled whimpering that gets him to sit up, the vampire at his side dead to the world as Wesley looks around for the noise. It's not long before he zeroes in on Spike, who is just about convulsing in his recliner. Despite the world tilting on its axis, gratefully not as bad as it had been hours previous, Wesley gets to his feet and steps over his sleeping coworkers to head toward Spike.

"Spike?" The blonde is clawing at himself as he mutters something Wesley couldn't catch, and despite his better judgement, Wesley grabs ahold of his hands. "Spike, wake up."

"I won't tell you anything please please please..." Spike froze at his touch, the other keeping his voice as low as possible.

"I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you to wake my friend, you're dreaming." Spike begins to move again with ragged breaths, Wesley slowly releasing his grip. "That's it, you-"

"I'm not telling you about the bloody Key." The snarl Spike made could have stopped Wesley's heart as a freed pale hand latches around his throat, normally blue eyes completely black as he sneers at Wesley. "I'll kill you first bitch."

"S...Spik..." Air is slowly becoming a valuable commodity as the hunter struggles to get free, lifted off his feet as Spike stands from his chair, staring at the struggling man with more hatred than Wesley had ever seen on a persons face. "I-I'm...no...t.."

"Spike, put him down." Wesley felt the grip around his throat tighten just that little bit more before those black eyes look away, fixating somewhere to his left, the former Watcher's head starting to spin as the room began to darken.

"I'll kill her before I do that."

"That isn't Glory." Angel keeps his eyes on Spike as he advances, one hand motioning for Gunn to stay down as he woke from the commotion. "Look at him, that's Wesley you're holding."

"You can't trick me; I won't give in." Black eyes flicker over, but Wesley's struggles start to weaken. This isn't right. Glory is a bloody god. She'd be able to hold her own even against his strength, right?

Wesley drops to the floor with a thud, beautiful and wonderful oxygen flowing into his body as he coughs. Spike looks down at him, a myriad of expressions crossing his face before he takes one step back, vanishing with the telltale hum of vampiric speed Wesley has come to know by heart.

"Wes are you okay?" Angel hurriedly knelt at his side, frowning at the red mark on his neck.

"I'll be fine." It felt like his throat was sandpaper, but he'll live. "Is Glory the one who...?" Angel nodded, the glance they shared saying everything it needed to, and Wesley shook his head. "Go, I'll be fine." The vampire hesitated before he vanished just like Spike had, Gunn soon taking his place.

"You know, that is still really cool."

"It is isn't it?"

Angel doesn't have to search very long, able to hear rambling from the suite he'd set up for the younger man, along with a muffled crash. Spike has decided that the furniture Angel had scrounged up was his current target, a nightstand splintering when Spike chucked it against the nearest wall.

"Bad bad bad bad bad! They'll turn to ashes under my hands, I can't do this!" Hands rake through grown-out hair as Spike looks for his next target, instead pointing at Angel as he approaches with a shaking finger. "You'll turn too."

"I've been ashes already, remember?" Angel watches as Spike growls. "Dru screamed it enough at me."

"She was right, bloody burned up by the sunshine who isn't here." Spike raked his hands through his hair again, this time with blood buried deep in his nails. "I was so bloody stupid!"

"No, no you weren't stupid." Angel leans against once of the few bits of furniture left intact, Spike pacing back and forth with quiet curses. "Love isn't stupid, but you know that better than I do, always have."

"Love isn't brains, it's blood." Spike looks over, his expression torn between guilt and exhaustion. "I nearly killed 'im."

"If you had squeezed any harder, you wouldn't have a hand right now."

"Shoulda taken it anyway, bloody ponce." Angel sighed, running a hand over his face.

"As much as I envisioned it at the moment, no, I wouldn't have." Blue eyes stare at him, shrouded with suspicion as Spike finally settled down on the edge of his bed, hugging his arms around himself as tight as they would go.

"I...she tells me in my dreams, how I failed. Shoulda been faster, hit harder, done more." Spike closed his eyes with a pained noise. "I'm sorry, 'bout the Watcher."

"Hey, he's gonna be fine." An uneasy silence settles between them, Angel simply waiting for Spike to make the next move.

"I'll never know, y'know? Told 'er I loved 'er, before everything, soddin' great idea that was, and I'll never know if it was enough." Spike shot back up to his feet, face shifting as he let out a vicious growl. "Why. Wasn't. I Good. Enough?"

"You were."

"I wasn't." The demon face melted away as quick as it had come, and Spike sank to the floor with a pitiful noise, tangling his hands into his hair with his head bowed. "I'm a bloody mess."

"Yea, we all are, but that's this crazy thing called life." Spike didn't react to Cordelia's voice from the doorway, able to smell her and the others who were most likely peering inside behind her. "You going to be alright?"

"Funny word alright, dunno the meaning of it." He muttered, vaguely aware of Angel moving towards the door. "Can't be alright when history is trying to drag you under all the bloody time."

"Tell it to piss off then, we were in the middle of hanging out time." The snort of amusement seems to lighten the mood, and despite having nearly strangled one of them minutes ago, everyone seems to parade into his suite and settle in for what remained of the night. By the time he's uncurled and back onto his feet, everyone has claimed a section of the living room for themselves, save Wesley who was standing in the hallway with a wary look.

"Sorry mate."

"Don't worry about it, although I'll sleep elsewhere, if it's all the same."

"Ta." They hold each others gaze before Wesley heads down the hall, Angel's gaze flickering between Spike and the empty hall before the younger rolls his eyes. "Go, I'll be fine."

"Night then." The elder nodded before he followed after Wesley, Spike watching him go before retreating to his room.

Gods above he needs a bloody smoke.

#personal #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #spike btvs #spike #william the bloody #cordelia chase #wesley wyndam pryce #charles gunn #angel #angel btvs #fred burkle #angel investigations #poetry

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